“I haven’t the slightest—”
“Because if he kicks you, you go to sleep, and you don’t wake up.” He laughed, grabbing his stomach.
“Well, I’m glad he likes me, then,” I said, imagining what it must have felt like as that wolf got trampled under hundreds of pounds of force.
Riding Sleeper proved easy enough. He really did all the work after I climbed on. I noticed Horan talking to his mount and wondered if the animals of this world could actually understand human speech. There would be time enough to put that idea to the test in the coming days, I was sure.
The older man led the way, while Faun and I rode behind. Speaking of behinds, I kept finding my attention drawn back to my female companion’s as her hips rocked up and down with the motion of her steed. I couldn’t say for sure, but I think my mouth began to water then. This gorgeous woman did not even seem aware of what she had. I supposed that was not her fault. She had more important things to deal with in the day-to-day, like just surviving surprise attacks from hordes of six-legged wolves, Manglers, and whatever the hell other random stuff this crazy world had available to throw at its inhabitants. Her apparent ignorance of the effect she had on me made her all the more appealing.
It was almost dusk when we decided to stop and set up camp. Sleeper and Horan’s mount were both equipped with tents, but the man apologized that there were only two, and Faun and I would have to share the one Tommany had left behind. I did not mind.
There was a circle of stones several yards from where we stopped. It reminded me of Stonehenge, except none of these huge rocks stood upright. They all lay partially submerged in the ground, the highest of them not quite reaching up to my knees. We placed the horses there, then Faun began pacing the circle and uttering more strange incantations. Her palms began to glow a bright pink as she went, and she waved them through the air, signing out arcane sigils in the sparkling trails her hands left behind.
“What’s she doing?” I asked Horan. The two of us had taken a break from setting up our tents and were watching her silently up until that point.
“She is casting a first-tier protective barrier around the perimeter.” He leaned over and explained, still watching the woman work. “If you do not know, a first-tier barrier allows a would-be intruder to pass through unharmed, but it alerts the caster of their presence. So, if someone were to sneak up on the horses in the night, Faun would awaken and be ready for battle without the intruder being aware. It is not the strongest of magic—not by far—but it has served me and others I know well over the years.”
“Ah, interesting,” I said.
When she finished her work, she did the same thing in a circle around our campsite. Being closer to her this second time, I felt a tingling sensation welling up inside of me, sort of like a hint of static electricity, but not quite. I suspected that was my own innate magic responded to the presence of Faun’s, but that was only a guess.
We finished off the evening with a small meal of more tubers and some apples Horan had brought for the trip. When the sun was setting, Faun said her evening prayer, and we all retired to our tents. I expected us to divvy up shifts to take watch over the course of the night after having just dealt with blood-sucking wolves, but apparently both of them were comfortable under the protection of Faun’s barrier.
The tent seemed bigger on the inside than it did from the outside. At a guess, I would say it was between eight to ten feet on either side and around half as high. There was plenty of room to stretch out but only one set of furs to bundle up in. The previous nights, Faun and I had slept under the open sky—not once did she even mention her protective barrier, by the way—both of us content to fall asleep with our skin exposed to the gentle caresses of the warm night air. I knew the furs were not a big deal for either of us, but they were there to use, so I thought that one of us might as well use them.
“You can have these,” I said, holding the covers up.
That beautiful mouth of hers curled into a playful grin that I did not recognize.
“I see how you have been looking at me, Si1ence,” she said. “Or should I call you Rixon, as you introduced yourself to Horan?” She winked and crawled closer on her hands and knees.
Her cleavage dangled as she drew in, heaving under her deep breaths. Blood rushed from my head. I was having a hard time believing this was real.
“Uh . . . Faun . . . what do you mean?”
Instead of saying anything more, my companion stopped inches away from me and stared into my eyes for the longest time. Her breath washed over me, carrying on it that sweet campfire scent. If I leaned in three inches, I would have been kissing her.
I had never been with a woman like this before. I’m embarrassed to say it, but despite all my internet fame, I had never been with any woman before. I sat frozen, not knowing what to do. I had been plagued by this desperate longing, these hopeless dreams, since the moment she and I locked eyes, but I had assumed that those naughty desires would go unfulfilled like with every other girl in my life.
Her hand touched mine, and she brought it up, slipping it under the leaves of her top and pressing my palm into her breast. Holy shit! Once it was there, she held it firm and began to rub it up and down and then side to side. Holy fucking shit! It felt like heaven. I could feel the beat of her heart.
Finally working up the initiative, I allowed my fingers to squeeze her. She blushed as her nipple grew hard against my palm. This can’t be real.
I had dreamed of moments like that for so long, but now that the time had finally arrived, I wasn’t sure what to do. I understood the basic idea. I mean, hell, I’d watched enough porn, but it was a totally different situation being there in the middle of it. That was not the kind of lifestyle Rixon Caldwell had led up until that point. But then I remembered something. I wasn’t Rixon Caldwell then. I was Si1ence, a dual-classing thief/mage.
He knew what to do.
I brought my other hand to her chin, tilting her head up a few degrees, and said, “Call me Si1ence, Lady,” and planted a serious kiss on those siren’s lips.
It was like nothing I had ever experienced before. I didn’t know if it counted to lose your virginity in a virtual environment, but it was real enough to me. My body began to hum as we entwined around each other in a dance of limbs and hands; touching, exploring, lingering on various points of interest. She was perfect, and even more than that, she was present in a way that women of my world had never been. There was just us and whatever was building with each caress. A flush spread across my body as she took me in her hands, fingertips stroking lightly until my erection verged into being painful.
Her remaining clothes were on the floor in a matter of seconds, with mine joining them promptly after.
I lowered my mouth to a nipple, tongue questing as it hardened under the delicate licks. I didn’t fully understand how, but I knew she needed me to be gentle, yet assertive. I obeyed my instinct, and her body bloomed underneath me.
“Does that feel good for you?” I asked.
“It does,” she said simply.
“May I?” I asked. We were locked together, kissing, and the heat of her was impossible to ignore against my length. There was damp invitation as well, and my body told me what to do next.
She wrapped her arms around my neck and whispered, “Now,” into my ear.
I didn’t need any more instruction. I slid in with as much ease as breathing.
Oh, my sweet Jesus, did she feel good. That was the understatement of the century. She felt amazing. A-plus, Circuit World. A-plus. I thought of all the developers and project managers that must have been watching me right then—for business purposes, of course—and hoped that they could begin to understand what I was feeling being inside a woman who felt like a goddess.
That’s when the fun really began.
I moved inside her, and she clamped on me in a grip that pulled like gravity. We selected a simple pattern of motion, and with each passing stroke I felt her heat grow, as did
mine, until a bright core built within me as my body went supernova. Sensing I was close, she locked her legs around me and began a slow grind that made her own orgasm begin on command, an erratic series of shuddering gasps that brought me past the edge as my vision flashed white while she kissed me hard, our bodies finding the last notes of a rhythm that only ended with her long sigh and my smile of utter amazement.
“So that’s how it’s supposed to be,” I said into her hair.
“Yes. Just like that,” she answered.
My heart was pounding with such ferocity that I could hear it more than feel it. We fell asleep soon after, not to wake until dawn, my thoughts of the dangerous world pushed away by the queen in my arms.
I did not dream. I did not have to.
I stirred at the sound of that metallic pop I had come to associate with reward. My eyes, opening slowly, took a moment to adjust to the bright blue UI window hovering patiently a few feet in front of me.
It had in it a picture of Faun and words reading:
Name: Faun
Race: Half-Elf
Class: Ranger
Relationship: Loyal
Level: 2
PRIMARY ABILITIES
Strength: 3
Endurance: 6
Agility: 7
Intelligence: 7
Wisdom: 5
Charisma: 4
DESCRIPTION
Faun was raised as an orphan in the land of Tel’Maryn. Even from a young age, she found an affinity for wildlife and chose to live in a way that allowed her to embrace those interests. She frequently roams the Zone of Leaves, checking on the status of its forests and settlements, after which she reports her findings back to the Temple of Leaves. Being partly Elvish in nature, she carries with her a racial affinity for a wide range of naturalist magics, often calling on her powers to help her communicate with plants and animals, as well as provide her a means of low-level healing and protective spellcasting that aid her as a ranger. Many of her abilities will not be revealed to her until she grows strong enough to handle them.
“Hm . . . interesting,” I mumbled.
She was still sleeping, curled up with her head resting against my chest. I looked at my arm that had been cut by the Bloodhound. It was already beginning to heal up nicely, but I thought it would not hurt to ask about those healing magics once she was awake to help speed up the process.
We began to get dressed within the next hour and crawled out into the morning sun. Horan was already up, tending to a tiny fire where he was about to begin cooking his breakfast. He didn’t say anything, only glancing at us and flashing a knowing grin before sticking a tuber on the end of his knife.
This game was getting better every day.
5
The kiss of the sun on my bare skin brought a smile to my face. As did the kiss of Faun on my lips. As did the taste of the tubers and trout. I had been living in this enigmatic video game world for several days, and there was no sign of its effects beginning to wear on me. I hoped the day that they did would never come. I hoped that I could wake up each day with Faun at my side and experience the world anew, like a child.
In all the excitement, I had barely stopped to consider much about the mechanics of the game after my initial musings. Here, as we walked the final stretch of our journey to the Temple of Leaves, my mind filled the long gaps of silence with thoughts of the game, and the world, and where I would end up in the future.
The one thing nagging at me since the last day of travel was that I had no idea how to call up the user interface, which seemed to pop up and scare the shit out of me at semi-random intervals. It showed battle results—that part was reliable enough; but then that morning it showed me Faun’s stats simply upon waking. I reasoned that perhaps it was triggered by a change in our relationship stat. It seemed plausible to assume that our relationship stats increased after, um, consummating our closeness with one another. These UI instances left a lot to be desired. I wanted more numbers.
I was always a numbers guy when it came to game--- never thought twice about skipping some long, drawn-out cutscene so that I could jump right back into the action. I played games for the adrenaline, for crushing my opponent, NPC or player character. That being the case, my character focused heavily on magic and agility, so it was no question which item I would pick between some Gauntlets of Troll Strength, which gave me a decent strength buff, or a pair of Elven Slippers which gave me an agility boost, albeit a lesser overall increase than the gauntlets provided. The way I saw it was that if it did not increase my primary stats, an item was virtually worthless. The thought that I was wearing things that did not contribute to my primary stats was really beginning to make me itch. Without being able to open some sort of menu, I had no idea what my equipment was doing for my stats, and as a seasoned gamer, I wanted to know.
Not that it mattered too much in the moment. I was likely only level one, and my starting equipment was probably not doing much to help me at all, but I would want to know where I stood when we eventually came across a shop.
Perhaps, I thought, the interface would appear at the call of some verbal command. After several hours of walking, I cleared my throat and abruptly said, “Pause!”
I heard no pop and saw no neon blue, but my party did briefly stop what they were doing and exchange confused glances with one another.
“What was that?” Horan asked. “Do you see something, Si1ence?”
“Oh, uh, no,” I said, blushing. “I was just testing something out.” I thought for a moment and said, “You two wouldn’t know how to bring up the UI, would you?”
This resulted in more confused glances. Horan said, “A yew eye? I am sorry, friend, I do not understand what you mean. Are you trying to make a potion of some kind? We have an apothecary in . . .”
“No, no.” I waved the idea away. “The user interface. Do you know how to open that? I want to see my stats.”
I doubted breaking character for a moment would hurt, especially if it helped me understand the game. My companions either had no idea what I was talking about, or they weren’t about to break character to help their beta tester pal out. My question was only met with more confused looks.
“I . . . do not know what you mean. I am sorry,” Horan said.
“I also do not know how to help you, Si1ence. Are you sure that everything is all right with you?”
I waved their questions away again. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just ignore all that. I’ll figure it out eventually.”
We resumed travel and I didn’t let the dead end in the conversation deter me. Several more times, I caught their attention with a handful of commands I shouted as they came to mind.
“Menu!”
Nothing but an over-the-shoulder glance from my guides.
“Start!”
Nope.
“Inventory!”
That was no better.
I was willing to bet that I’d get some kind of feedback if I changed out my equipment—something to show me the effect that the action had. Sifting through my pack, all I found was the little hand axe looked like it was intended for woodcutting, not war. I took it out and brandished it like a weapon, hoping that it might do something to my combat stats which would trigger the UI to pop up. Nothing happened. I even removed my belt, where both blades were sheathed, and tucked the whole thing away into my rucksack to kind of finalize the action. Nothing.
I knew that skills were a must—be it firewood, building things, or even prepping weapons, but the axe was only a start. There was a heluva menu to be filled in order to survive in this world.
Thinking back to the fishing, it was kind of a letdown that I did not seem to receive any experience points from doing that. I wondered if there were levels for skills outside of combat. Secondary skills like fishing and construction were always a favorite of mine in any RPG. Stuff like that always brought new dimensions to whatever game I was playing, often seeming like their own little games themselves. That made me think of anothe
r thing I wanted to use the UI for—the settings menu. If I was getting experience from fishing and perhaps even cooking and other stuff of that nature, I wanted to see it somewhere as I was earning it. Seeing experience points puff into existence and float away into the open air was usually a moderately rewarding response. I hoped that the setting menu had an option to toggle that sort of thing.
On top of that was my desire to shut off the game’s apparent default autoloot functionality. I’ve played a few games that forced players to loot items from their fallen foes, and, while it seemed like a nice convenience at first, it always became a chore to go digging through my inventory and sorting out the good stuff from the crap. I didn’t want to go grinding out in the wilderness, killing hundreds of enemies over the course or an hour or two, and then have to stop what I was doing to unload all their useless hides or second-rate daggers or fangs. One game I had played recently even had low-level enemies dropping dung. It wasn’t used for alchemy or anything, it was just a pile of poo that would just sit their until you got rid of it. And, of course, the game used autoloot. It was never a big deal to clean out my inventory, but if I had the option, I would like to not have to do it several times a day.
“Settings!”
“Are you sure you are okay, Si1ence?” Faun asked, legitimately concerned.
“Yeah,” I said with a laugh. “I’m a little irritated, but I’ll be fine.”
The forest was by far the largest collection of trees I had ever seen—inside a videogame or out. Taking into consideration where I was, that was a significant statement.
Games were not known for their sense of scale. To the best of my knowledge, nothing had ever come close to the realism that Circuit World attempted. I didn’t know what I expected as I woke up in this strange digital plane, but it was not this. On either side of me, the line of trees marking the edge of the wood reached off into infinity. I could not see their end, and the land had even flattened out, allowing me to glimpse a horizon miles and miles away. They went on forever, only shrinking as they neared where the sky met the land, never completely fading. Days prior, I had marveled at how the game might be accounting for each droplet of water. Now, I imaged a forest filled with as many colossal trees as the fields had blades of grass. The sheer immensity frightened me.
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